


it’s a friend? date

by adamantine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, keith and shiro are both dumbasses about romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: “Keith, what do you think this is?” The anger in Shiro’s voice has turned into an emotion Keith can’t quite place, which is somehow more unnerving. Shiro’s supposed to be his best friend. He’s not supposed to feel lost and unsettled around him.“Huh?”It’s Shiro’s turn to look lost. “When I asked you out for dinner last week, what did you think I meant?”The question makes no sense to Keith. “That you wanted to eat dinner with me?” Is there a coded message he’s not grasping?Or the one where Shiro’s dating skills are rusty and Keith’s are entirely nonexistent.





	it’s a friend? date

**Author's Note:**

> my power went out on saturday and I wrote this all on mobile...somehow it’s easier??? I think it’s because it’s harder to go back and edit as I write......

Keith pushes his hair back and stares at himself in the mirror. Red shirt, black jacket, and black pants. It’s the best outfit he can throw together without buying new clothes. It’s tempting but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to waste money on clothing he’s only going to wear once.

He’s having dinner with Shiro which normally wouldn’t make him stress over what to wear but it’s a _nice_ restaurant, the kind of place you needed _reservations_ for, the type of restaurant Keith has never stepped foot in his entire life. He has no idea why Shiro has the sudden urge to pay for the privilege of eating tiny spoonfuls of food on giant plates but when Shiro asks if he wants to go with him, he says yes without hesitation. There’s not a single invitation he would turn down from Shiro.

It’s not a _date_ though. It’s just a dinner at a fancy restaurant with his best friend. His very hot best friend that he’s wanted to kiss since he was sixteen. Which is irrelevant. Wishing it’s a date isn’t going to turn it into one so he doesn’t let himself get caught up in fantasies.

He frowns at his reflection. It looks like he’s trying too hard when his bangs are out of his face. It’s immediately suspicious and he can’t have Shiro catching on to how much this invitation has rattled him. He settles for tying his hair up instead. It’s gotten long enough that gathering it into a low ponytail is easy. The red hair tie matches his shirt and he hopes it’s enough to keep him from looking he’s there to rob  _Vero Amore_  instead of being there to eat.

Shiro picks him up, which isn’t weird or date-y, but environmentally friendly since they live within feet of each other. He’s dressed in what could be generously called "interview clothes" but instead of looking nerdy and lame in them like everyone else on the planet, he looks like a sexy stock image model. It’s highly unfair. If Keith tried to wear that outfit it would look like he was on his way to a court hearing.

Keith blocks the view of his quarters as best as he can, not wanting Shiro to see that his wardrobe is everywhere but in his closet (his Marmora suit is hanging over a lamp in a way that he's pretty would give Kolivan an aneurysm).

“Hey,” Shiro begins. Keith smiles at him. “Our reservation was moved to six so—” Keith turns around to lock his door and Shiro abruptly stops talking.

Keith waits for him to continue but when doesn’t he looks behind him and sees that Shiro is frozen, his eyes wide, and Keith worries he wasn’t quick enough to hide the mess in his bedroom. Damn, how embarrassing.

“So?” he asks, hoping Shiro will have mercy on him and not ask why he struggled so much to pick an outfit for a not-date when almost everything he owns is black anyway so what difference does it make (A lot, okay? Especially when half his wardrobe was verging on grey thanks to Altean laundry detergent not knowing how to handle anything darker than twilight blue.).

Shiro makes a string of garbled noises that could mean anything from “We should leave now if we want to get there in time” to “I’ve decided to cancel and now that I’ve seen how you’ve dressed I never want to speak to you again.” It’s probably the first one.

“What?” Keith asks. It doesn’t hurt to clarify.

“Hey...you.” Shiro raises a hand and brushes Keith’s bicep a few times before honing in on Keith’s shoulder.

“Hey?” He’s on fire where Shiro’s touching him. He’s surprised Shiro can’t feel it.

“Good...look. Good look.” Shiro nods like he’s said something profound.

“Uh, thanks? It’s not too...casual? I don’t want to get us kicked out.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Shiro assures him.

He’s right. Keith doesn’t get them kicked out, though it’s not because they approve of what he’s wearing. As far as he can tell, none of the restaurant staff even  _see_  him. They’re too preoccupied with  _Captain Shirogane_. They zero in on Shiro the moment he walks in, bullying a couple out of their seats to give Shiro a table with a view. Their waiter fawns over Shiro, elbowing Keith in his eagerness to shake hands with a living legend. After they order, their chef comes out of the kitchen to personally thank Shiro for saving the planet. When Shiro points out that Keith has also helped save the planet and the universe countless times he smiles and laughs like Shiro has said a good joke.

Keith is practically anonymous compared to Shiro, famous astronaut turned savior of Earth. He’s well aware that when his name is searched for online the first articles that pop up are all variations of “Man wanted for questioning in the disappearance of three Garrison cadets” and it isn’t until page three of the results that an article for a local paper mentions “K. Kogane is among those that have returned to Earth with the mysterious entity known as Voltron.” Keith simply isn’t famous the way Shiro or even the other paladins are. Lance keeps a high profile social media presence, Pidge’s family has been in the spotlight for years, Hunk’s plight with his family receives a TV special, and even Allura gets her fair share of media attention as an alien princess. Keith, on the other hand, turns down every interview request he gets and no one even knows he has social media accounts (they're entirely empty; he only uses them to follow Shiro).

The food is sparse but beautiful to look at. It’s the exact opposite experience of dining at the Garrison’s mess halls. He’s not sure though what it tastes like because he can barely process what he’s eating. He’s all energy and no way to release it. He’s itching to run or fight, a craving that grows worse every time he catches Shiro’s soft gaze.

“Do you want to order dessert?”

“Not here,” Keith snaps and winces internally at how rude it comes out. “It’s just—I’d like some fresh air, you know?”

Shiro nods like he understands but that’s impossible when even Keith doesn’t know why eating dinner with Shiro at a candlelit table in the fanciest restaurant still standing within 100 miles of the Garrison makes him want to bolt or punch something. They’ve barely talked, every time their conversation starts it’s interrupted by a waiter or a chef or the light hitting Shiro just right and stealing the words out of Keith’s mouth.

“There’s a frozen yogurt place a few blocks from here if you don’t mind the walk.”

Keith doesn’t. It’s exactly what he needs really, even if he’s never had frozen yogurt in his life and is utterly confused by the entire setup, making Shiro chuckle at his expense when he shows Keith how to serve himself. Shiro pays for it—would have paid for the dinner too if the restaurant didn’t insist that Shiro and his “date” (Keith blacks out for a moment after being referred to this way) don’t have to pay anything, not even a tip, and if they so much as leave a penny they would gravely insult the entire restaurant’s staff.

Shiro covers his frozen yogurt with toppings until the yogurt itself is no longer visible. There’s no rhyme or reason behind his choices beyond “everything” and the final creation sits there like someone’s failed attempt to build a tower out of cheap desserts and barely defrosted fruit as the cashier weighs it. A few chopped nuts fall on the scale when the cashier sticks a spoon in it.

They eat outside in an empty patio. It’s not the right weather for frozen yogurt but Keith doesn’t particularly care. It _does_ help to be in the fresh air, even if the way Shiro’s hair glows under the streetlights feels as romantic as it did when it was glowing from a candle.

“Keith, about earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” The pile of toppings has been decimated, leaving behind a sludge-colored goo that is presumably every flavor of frozen yogurt melted into one.

“You didn’t do anything. That kind of place just isn’t my thing.”

“I should’ve asked where you wanted to go. I just wanted to take you somewhere special. When I heard _Vero Amore_ had reopened I thought—I don’t know.” He pokes at his yogurt.

“You’ve been there before?”

Shiro doesn’t look up from his yogurt. “A few times, with Adam.”

_Oh._

Keith doesn’t know how to respond to Shiro’s confession. The childish jealously Adam’s name used to provoke feels hollow now that Adam is dead.

“I guess I’m an idiot, huh? I’ve never actually planned a date before, believe it or not. I’ve just gone along with people’s plans.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m sure anyone else would love _Vero Amore_.” His voice cracks a bit, but he thinks he’s otherwise holding it together quite nicely. It’s not exactly easy giving date advice to the man you’ve been pining after for years. “You probably shouldn’t take them to frozen yogurt though. They’ll be too disgusted to kiss you after seeing that.” He points to Shiro’s sludge, expecting Shiro to laugh or at least crack a smile at his teasing, but Shiro is staring at him with an intensity that puts Keith on edge. 

“Well, it sounds like I do have something to worry about then.” He’s  _pissed_ and it doesn’t make any sense. Keith wants to apologize but for _what?_  For teasing Shiro? He’s been doing that since he was a teenager andShiro’s never reacted this way before. Did Keith finally cross the line? Maybe it’s insensitive to tease him about his dating life right after he’s brought up Adam. Should he tell him he was joking? That anyone would gladly kiss Shiro, even if Shiro’s just eaten garlic and toxic yogurt sludge? Keith will gladly prove it to him if needed.

“Keith, what do you think this is?” The anger in Shiro’s voice has turned into an emotion Keith can’t quite place, which is somehow more unnerving. Shiro’s supposed to be his best friend. He’s not supposed to feel lost and unsettled around him. 

“Huh?”

It’s Shiro’s turn to look lost. “When I asked you out for dinner last week, what did you think I meant?”

The question makes no sense to Keith. “That you wanted to eat dinner with me?” Is there a coded message he’s not grasping?

Shiro blinks owlishly. There’s caramel on his cheek. “I was asking you out. On a date.”

It takes a while for Shiro’s words to sink in. Firstly, it doesn’t make sense that Shiro would ask him out on a date. Shiro doesn’t feel _that_ way about him. Keith knows it because it’s not exactly a secret that he’s in love with Shiro. He’s made it clear in action and words. Shiro loves him—he knows it, he feels it—but it’s not the same kind of love and that’s okay. He’s happy as long as he can have a place by Shiro’s side. Secondly, and this is something he’s going to be embarrassed about for years to come whenever he thinks back to this day, is that he can’t stop having vivid thoughts of licking the caramel off Shiro’s cheek.

“This is a date?” Keith shoots up in his chair and leans forward. He scrutinizes Shiro’s expression, tries to figure out if Shiro’s pranking him. Yogurt dribbles off his spoon as he points it accusingly at Shiro.

“That was the intention,” Shiro says dryly.

“Okay, okay.” He runs a hand through his hair for something to do with it. The incessant energy has returned and converged into a single desire to touch something, anything, _Shiro_. “I can believe that.”

“Thanks.” Another dry quip.

Finally, the energy inside Keith bursts and he gives in to his urges. He swipes the caramel off Shiro’s cheek and hesitates only for a moment before licking it off his finger—it’s not quite what he wanted to do but it’s _something_ at least. Shiro lets out a strangled sound that goes straight to Keith’s groin in a way that’s half-awe and half-powertrip. He wants to hear it again, he wants to hear _more_. He wants all of it, everything that is Shiro.

“Shiro—”

“Keith—”

They both start and stop at the same time. It’s awkward—but a clumsy, endearing awkwardness that makes them laugh.

“You first,” Shiro says.

“I’m glad this is a date,” Keith says in a rush. “And really, _Vero Amore_ is nice—it just sucked that we kept getting interrupted. Also, I don’t care if your frozen yogurt is more topping than yogurt.” As far as confessions go, Keith thinks he’s nailed it. At least it seems to work judging by the way Shiro’s face gets that look that makes Keith’s heart thud in his ears, a reminder that Keith is flesh and blood and oh-so-alive.

“Thanks, Keith.” His voice is light and teasing. “I’m glad my shitty date ideas haven’t ruined my chances with you forever.”

“That’s impossible. Really.” There’s not a single reality where he can go on a date with Shiro and not want to again. And again, _and again,_ **_and again_.**

“Still, I want to make it up to you. Can I?”

There’s nothing to make up for but Keith let’s out a breathless _yes_ anyway.

It’s fitting somehow that Keith’s first date with Shiro would end up with them breaking into a Garrison hanger. Though, is it breaking in when Shiro has the clearance to go anywhere and do anything he wants? Probably not, but Shiro’s conspiratorial grin makes it seem that way.

Keith assumes they’re here for the hoverbikes. He’s wrong. They’re here for something much bigger, much faster than a simple hoverbike. If he wasn’t already hopelessly in love with Shiro, this would have done it. He wants to kiss Shiro and delightedly realizes  _he can._

Kissing Shiro pleases the energy inside of Keith, settles his itch to run. The prosthetic hand settles at the small of his back, a comforting weight that grounds him and keeps him from floating away.

“Which one’s the fastest?” Keith asks when he breaks away. It pains him to do so, but there’s a reason they’re here and he’s not going to let the opportunity slip by him—not when it excites him almost as much as kissing Shiro does.

“Griffin’s is. Not that you can tell with the way Rizavi flies hers.”

It’s pathetically easy to steal Griffin’s MFE. Shiro opens the hanger with his prosthetic hand while he settles in the seat behind Keith. It’s true that not many people can fly one so stealing them is technically not _that_ easy but to Keith, a ship is a ship and he hasn’t found one yet he doesn’t intuitively understand. He flies out of the hanger carefully and quietly-at least as quietly as a fighter jet can be-but once they’re in the clouds Keith lets loose and pushes the fighter to its limits. They’re in space so fast it’s dizzying. With no drag to hold it back, the MFE is so easy to move it’s no wonder they’re able to outmaneuver the Galra’s fighters so easily. This is less like flying than it is dancing. He’s certain Black is going to be jealous the next time she pokes around in Keith’s head.

Shiro laughs when Keith suggests it. “Yeah, but can an MFE teleport?”

“Good point.” He takes them around the solar system, a tour that goes by as quickly as a stroll through the Garrison. It’s surreal and beautiful, and even if Shiro’s not the one flying he knows the experience is as amazing for him as it is for Keith. They’re both a little in love with space, despite everything it’s done to them—or perhaps because of it. Being here, surrounded by stars, suits them in a way that a fancy Italian restaurant on Earth just doesn’t.

“Hey, Shiro?” He brings the MFE to a stop. Venus looms outside the cockpit window. The gravity of the planet almost has no effect on the MFE. It’s a terrifying piece of technology.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Say the word and I’ll steal Atlas for you next,” he says playfully. Stealing a giant battleship shouldn’t sound so flirtatious.  

“Tempting, but that’s not what I’m thanking you for. At least, that’s not all of it.” He takes a deep breath. It’s amazing how much harder it is to say the words without the threat of death spurring him on to bare his soul, but Shiro needs to know and that’s enough to make him brave. “Thank you for never giving up on me. You’re my everything, Shiro. I love you.”

“Keith...” he trails off.

The silence of space is suddenly unbearable. Keith punches it and Venus becomes a speck of dust.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

Earth comes into view. Lights dot the planet’s surface in small clusters. They’re not all in the same places as before. Some cities will never be rebuilt, but that’s okay. New ones will be born and they’ll be just as beautiful as the old ones. Maybe more so. Earth and space, the familiar and the unknown, humans and aliens, all combining to create something new and wonderful.

“Keith, I love you.”

It hits him harder like this, said as a simple and plain truth. It’s too much. He wants to see Shiro’s face. Wants to hold him. Wants to be held. But he can’t. He’s stuck piloting them to Earth.

A metal hand brushes his. Maybe Shiro senses his distress or maybe after saying those words he needs to feel Keith too. Their palms line up. Shiro’s hand is so big Keith wonders if it will be uncomfortable to lace their fingers together. It’s not.

A blinking light tells him that someone is trying to hail them but he’s not sure how the comms on the MFE works. At least that’s the excuse he’ll use when he gets chewed out for ignoring their transmission.

He lands with great care and skill, resisting the urge to show off. He doesn’t want to push his luck. Iverson is waiting for them. He scolds them for stealing government property and for treating a powerful weapon like a hoverbike but he loses momentum when Keith and Shiro keep smiling at each other, clearly unrepentant for their crimes, and makes them promise to tell someone the next time they decide to go joyriding with another persons' ship.

“I wonder if Atlas counts as my ship,” Shiro says once Iverson lets them go.

“Only you can make it transform. That means it’s your ship.” It’s late and the only other souls they meet are security guards patrolling the Garrison for suspicious activity, completely unaware that Suspicious Activity is walking right past them.

“Sound logic.”

They say goodnight, and Keith has every intention of leaving it like that, of crawling into bed and passing out from exhaustion but the pile of clothes taunts him, reminds him of how he started the evening wishing he was going on a real date with Shiro, oblivious to the signs it was. He changes into his pajamas and abandons his room to knock on Shiro’s door. 

“Keith?” Shiro pokes his head out.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” He’s proud of himself for wording it in a way that isn’t immediately creepy. It’s a short-lived victory. Shiro hesitates for far too long and Keith is certain he’s pushed for too much too fast.

But Shiro surprises him. “Sure—but. Well, I kind of made a mess.” He opens the door fully and lets Keith inside. The clothes strewn around his room are nowhere near as bad as Keith’s disaster but then again it looks he’s been putting them away. “I couldn’t find anything to wear.” There’s dusting of pink on his cheeks and Keith’s affections for him somehow doubles.

“I know the feeling.”

Shiro’s left hand hovers next to Keith’s scar, hesitating to touch it. Keith leans his face into Shiro’s palm and closes his eyes when calloused fingers trace his scar.

Shiro kisses him on his forehead, on his scar, on his lips, and exhaustion turns to wild energy that’s finally found an outlet. They tumble into bed and Keith knows it’s going to be a while before they fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> you know I actually like James, I swear. torturing him is just how I show my love.


End file.
